Best is Yet to Come
by Huffrey
Summary: Eragon, Saphira, and the Varden continue their quest to oust the dark king. The secrets of the Rock of Kuthian, the Vault of Souls, Tenga, Brom's parting words, and more are revealed. ExA later. Rated T because anything could happen.
1. Aftermath

Chapter One- Aftermath

Eragon sat on a small hill overlooking the dilapidated ruins of Feinster. Fires still raged in some areas of the city, and here and there a building would collapse. Clearly, the battered city would not be able to house the Varden for any extended length of time; a move would soon be necessary. _So much destruction_, he thought. _And for what cause?_

_A noble one_, came Saphira's reply. Crouched next to Eragon was the most magnificent sight in all of Alagaesia: his glimmering dragon. He marveled at the way her scales caught the light of the setting sun before returning his gaze to the smoldering ruins in front of him. For a time, the two sat in companionable silence, neither wishing to broach the uncomfortable topic of their former masters. Nearly an hour passed before Eragon spoke.

_I cannot believe they are gone_, he murmured.

_Nor can I_, she replied. _But they aren't entirely. Glaedr will be with us at least until the end of the war, and through him, Oromis. We are not completely on our own._

In times like these, Eragon was most grateful for his dragon's company. She was the rock that kept him from being swept away by the tides of madness that threatened to consume him. Instead of replying, he simply reached out a hand and began to scratch the scales beneath her jaw and a low, satisfied hum began to resonate from deep within her.

_We are not alone._ The thought comforted Eragon as he contemplated the present state of the Varden and the war.

_But Galbatorix is, _Saphira stated. _His twisted bond with Shruikan is nothing compared to the love we share. _

_Aye, that it is. And neither is he invincible. If only we could free the Eldunari..._

Silence reigned once again as the pair's thoughts turned to the demise of the enslaved dragons.

_There has to be a way to free them. There must, _he thought, more to himself than anyone else. Saphira silently agreed.

Their musings were interrupted by a soft padding noise behind them. Without even looking, Eragon knew who it was: the ultimate desire of his heart, Arya. Already, he could feel his heart rate increasing and his muscles tensing. Not wanting his body to betray him, Eragon kept his impassive gaze on the city of Feinster, not acknowledging her presence.

The padding of her feet stopped for a second, a few feet behind Eragon, as she hesitated. Then Arya walked up and sat down on the lush grass beside him. Only then did Eragon glance at her.

"Arya," he said, nodding to her, abandoning all formalities.

"Eragon, Saphira..." Arya trailed off. She did not seem to know what to say. "You have my utmost condolences for your loss."

"And you as well. You have lost as much as we have, if not more."

Arya sighed. "Aye. He was a second father to me. After my father died on that battlefield ..." her voice broke as emotion threatened to overcome her. "After my father died, my mother, overtaken by grief, could not take the sight of me. I reminded her too much of Evandar. In those days, I saw very little of her. Most days, I stayed with Oromis. He showed genuine kindness to me, something very few others have done. He took me in, let me stay in his hut, and never even asked why. He simply accepted me and I... I will miss him greatly," she finished, a tear threatening to fall from her emerald eyes.

Eragon looked over at her and pity welled up inside him. Never before had he seen her look so broken or so forlorn. "I never realized he meant so much to you."

Arya simply nodded, hiding her face from him with her raven hair, and Eragon suspected that tears had indeed begun to fall. Steeling himself, and hoping he was not going too far, Eragon shifted closer and wrapped his strong, bronze arm around her shoulder.

_Careful,_ warned Saphira. Eragon gave her a mental roll of the eyes.

_She's distressed. I'm just trying to comfort her._

In response, Arya simply leaned into his chest. Just this once, she would allow herself to be comforted. For a time, the two Shadeslayers sat in silence, watching as the last bloody rays of the sun faded from the land.


	2. Unfortunate Encounters

**A/N: I realized that the first chapter was pitifully short – only about 800 words. My apologies. I will do my best to make longer chapters from here on out. **

**To my reviewers: Thank you Aj and NormalityIsNonexistant for being my first two reviewers ever! Kudos!**

**Aj: Better yet, I have another one today.**

**NormalityIsNonexistant: Thanks for being the first! Oh, and I checked out your profile – that was probably the longest I've seen!**

Chapter 2: Unfortunate Encounters

Eragon awoke in his tent early the next morning before the sun had risen. Saphira was still peacefully sleeping. Entering into her mind, he found her dreaming of the two of them flying amongst the clouds, rulers of the sky, with nobody for miles around. He smiled to himself as he retreated from her comforting presence into the cold world of reality. _And her dream is mine as well_, he thought.

He quickly dressed himself in an elven tunic he had kept from his days in Ellesmera and took a step outside, breathing in the city air. It nearly made him choke. Ash from the fires that had previously ravaged Feinster was still circulating in the air, and Eragon's newly heightened senses certainly were not helping the matter. Walking by Arya's tent, he noticed she was still asleep, oddly enough.

_Best not to wake her._ He continued on throughout the city, which was completely empty save for a few beggars. Eragon tossed a coin or two to each one as he passed. _At least it isn't as bad as Dras-Leona here._

Seeing the beggars brought Eragon back to the time when he and Brom had foolishly charged into Dras-Leona and the Ra'Zacs stronghold: Helgrind, the deathly four mountains. _If only I hadn't, Brom would still be alive …_

Saphira intruded on his thoughts. _Little One._

Eragon grumbled. Apparently she had woken up. _Sorry. Regret... It catches me off guard sometimes._

_And that is why you are lucky that you have me here to stop you_, she said smugly.

_Aye, that I am,_ he smiled.

_The battle yesterday took a lot out of me; I must eat. _

_Then go, but try not to hunt too close to the city. The Varden will need any food close to the city that they can get._

_You don't have to remind me, _she reprimanded gently. _I look out for the interests of the Varden as much as you do. _

He took her rebuke in silence, then thought, _I will be at the lake, then. Farewell, partner-of-my-heart. _With those words, he saw Saphira take off from the city and rise to the height of the clouds. Moments such as those made him wonder what he ever did to deserve such a majestic dragon to call his own. Shaking his head and smiling, he took off for a small lake – almost a pond, really – that he had found yesterday while perched atop the hill. After expanding his mind to check if he was truly alone, Eragon stripped himself of his clothes in preparation to do the Rimgar.

Eragon found himself to be unexpectedly tensed up after the previous day's battle. The first and second levels he breezed through with relative ease, but the third took him a great deal longer, and at the end of the fourth, he was covered entirely in sweat. Glad that he had picked this location, he plunged into the cool lake. For a time he sat in the water, simply clearing his mind until it was as pure as the lake that he found himself in. Briefly touching Saphira's mind, almost out of instinct, he found her tearing at a bloody carcass with gusto. _And she's still hungry. More than one deer will lose their life today._

As he retreated from her mind, he noticed another presence nearing the lake – and quickly. Eragon groaned when he realized who it was. _Could she have picked a worse time to come up on me like this?_

He quickly ran out of the water and dried himself with magic, noticing that he barely felt the effects. Arya appeared out of the trees just as soon as Eragon threw on his tunic. For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

"Shadeslayer," she greeted, touching her lips with her fingers.

_Back to formalities again. Can't I just be Eragon to her? _he complained inwardly. "Shadeslayer," he returned with a small smile, nodding his head. "What brings you here?"

"The same reasons as you, I would presume."

"Which are?"

"To get away from the city. To clear your mind."

"You know me too well," he murmured.

"Simply because I have known you longer than most." When he didn't reply, a small smile touched her lips. "Eragon, are you planning on staying here? I was planning on bathing ..."

Heat flooded his cheeks as he caught her meaning. "No I-I will go now. Farewell, Arya." Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heel and left. _Back to Eragon again. I don't understand her!_

Eragon felt the mental equivalent of a snort escape from Saphira. _Shut up, you_, he grumbled.

_Someone's in fine fettle this morning. _Eragon ignored her. _Also, Nasuada has called a meeting and she is expecting you to be there, as well as Arya... Which means someone will need to go fetch her. _Eragon could almost hear her rumbling laughter over the connection.

_Arya will just have to arrive late._

_Eragon, if you don't tell her, nobody will. Now go get her. _He groaned. All he needed was another opportunity to make a fool of himself. He just hoped he didn't end up with any broken bones. Eragon approached the treeline cautiously, as a hunter would his prey. What he saw in the lake stopped him in his tracks. Lo and behold, there she was, the utmost object of his desires – completely unclothed. Eragon's jaw dropped open as he beheld the sight. Suddenly, Arya sensed his presence and whipped around, covering herself with her arms.

"Eragon! Explain yourself!" she demanded furiously, glaring at him with the coldest eyes he had ever seen.

"I-I-I meant – I only came to say th-that Nasuada requested your presence in her tent. That's all. I didn't think–"

"No, you didn't," she said icily. "Tell her I will be there shortly." Clearly, their conversation was over.

To Saphira, he said,_ Is that what you wanted?_ Her only response was to chuckle and reply, _Do not worry, Little One. Time will heal all. _

Eragon, still simmering from the encounter with Arya, made good time to the temporary command tent, which was set up just outside the city walls. The six Nighthawks, upon recognizing him, uncrossed their pikes and admitted him entrance. Gathered in the tent were Nasuada, Jormundur, and Orrin. "My lady," he said, bowing, "Arya will arrive shortly. Saphira, of course, will listen through me."

"Very well. We shall have to wait until she arrives, then." She tapped her foot impatiently. Clearly, she wanted the meeting to finish as much as anyone else in the room.

Fifteen minutes later, Arya arrived, nodding to each of them in turn save Eragon, who she simply ignored.

"Now that we are all here," Nasuada began, looking pointedly in Arya's direction, "we can discuss our plans moving forward. I wish to attack and capture Belatona by winter's arrival."

Eragon cut in. "So soon? The men have just fought a battle yesterday, and you expect them to march so soon? Be reasonable."

"They will have ample time to recover. But I hope to leave within a week."

"What of the fortifications on Belatona?" Arya queried.

Jormundur spoke up for the first time. "And how many troops will be housed there?"

"That remains to be seen. However, since our victory over Feinster, new recruits have been pouring in. Many of the soldiers of yesterday's battle offered to join arms with us as well. With those troops to bolster us, I have no doubt that we can take Feinster."

"Yes," Orrin put in. "Morale is high. This is the first time the Varden has gone on the offensive in its entire campaign. And the celebration tonight will cheer them even more."

Eragon raised an eyebrow. "A celebration?"

Orrin looked shocked that Eragon had not heard. "But of course! Did you not hear this morning?"

"I was … Otherwise occupied," he replied, glancing at Arya. She remained impassive as ever.

"I see. In that case, then, allow me to explain. In celebration of our victory, tonight we are holding a feast – and there will be dancing as well, of course. You are expected to come!" he added, glaring at Eragon as if to make sure he would be there.

"I shall... do my best to attend." _A dance? _he moaned to Saphira._ I don't dance! _

Saphira's rumbling laughter could be heard from outside the tent. _You do now._

Nasuada stood up then and declared the meeting adjourned. Arya pushed her way out first, not waiting for Eragon.

_Perhaps you should go after her_, Saphira suggested.

_Yeah, and get thrown over the walls of Feinster? I'd rather not._ After saying this, though, he caught up to her. "Arya, wait!"

She turned around impatiently. "Yes?"

Eragon sighed. "I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to catch you like that."

Her glare softened ever so slightly. "Consider it forgiven, but do not let me catch you again. You will regret it."

"Thank you. I won't," he said, returning to Saphira's side. _It could have gone worse, _he reasoned.

_Aye, that it could have. You're still in one piece! _

Ignoring her jibe, he asked, _Would you like to fly? _

_Always. _Eragon lithely climbed up her leg and into her saddle. With a roar, she took off, corkscrewing through the air joyously with Eragon laughing along. She soared to the height of the clouds, and there she leveled out as the two looked down on the city in peace, as rulers of the sky.

**A/N: Thank you again to the two people who did review! For everyone else, it would be much appreciated if you tell me what you think so far and what I did well, what I can improve on, etc. Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. A Celebration

**A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed! Hopefully this chapter is better than the other two – I tried to make it a bit longer. Also a bit of a filler, but don't worry, action will be coming in soon enough.**

**Aj: Thank you for pointing that out. As for finishing by November 8th, I'm not too sure if I can pull that off. There's a lot of stuff that needs to happen before the story ends, and I have school and extracurricular stuff going on. We'll see. I'll do my best!**

**EminemBitches – Yeah, agreed, that first chapter wasn't terribly original. I'll do my best to make the upcoming chapters better in that regard. Thank you!**

**Lightningkid333 – Thanks for the input. I do my best to capture emotions well, but it's hard to get right sometimes.**

Chapter 3: A Celebration

Eragon's few hours atop Saphira were far from peaceful. In fact, he spent so much time squabbling over the upcoming celebration that he hardly enjoyed the beautiful sight laid out before him. From their height among the clouds, the decimated city of Feinster was the only blot on the beautiful landscape. To the west, Eragon could make out the shoreline of the ocean; to the east, the thin, snaking line of the Jiet River. To the North, although unseen, was their next destination in their conquest: Belatona.

_Eragon_, Saphira sighed. _Celebrations are meant to be enjoyed. They're called celebrations for a reason._

_And how am I supposed to enjoy a dance when I have nobody to dance with?_

A sound not unlike rocks scraping against each other came from Saphira's throat as she laughed. _You have more people to dance with than I care to count._

Eragon waved his hand impatiently. _That isn't what I meant. _

_Then what did you mean? _

_Nobody I care to dance with wishes to dance with me. _

_And who do you care to dance with?_ she asked innocently.

Eragon snorted. _Who do you think? _

_Perhaps asking Arya at this time is not the wisest choice you could make. Especially after the … incident between you two yesterday. _

_Perhaps not. Still, though, Orrin said quite clearly that I had to dance with _someone._ And she seems to be the only viable choice at the moment._

Saphira pondered his words for a moment. _Hmm. You could dance with Nasuada; I'm sure as your liege-lord she would hardly want to risk humiliating you by turning down your offer._

_I don't wish to alienate Orrin,_ Eragon said with a laugh. _He would be consumed by jealousy. Just look at his eyes when he watches her during the meetings. It has become quite apparent as of late._

_Indeed, _she acknowledged. _In that case, then, it seems that you are in the right._

He smiled. _For once. _

They soared together for a time, simply basking in each other's presence. Although they did not voice the sentiment, both Rider and Dragon knew that their time alone would become more and more restricted the closer they neared to Galbatorix's stronghold.

_I wish all days could be like this, _he murmured.

Saphira agreed, _As do I. _

_Minus the celebrations._

Saphira snorted. _Oh, be quiet, Eragon. You will be fine. _

_We'll see about that._

Saphira let his statement fade into oblivion as they watched the sun fall beneath the horizon. _Look. It has begun. _

Following her gaze, he noticed that the celebrations had indeed begun in earnest.

_Let me down in the square, _he told her, indicating an open area in the center of the city. Eragon imagined it must have been quite a place before the war. Now, all that remained were a few fountains that no longer functioned and ashen trees. _I certainly won't be shedding any tears when we depart for Belatona. _

Eragon looked for the keep in the center of the city, which was where the feast was going to be held. The tower was not hard to find; it dwarfed the surrounding buildings and its height was nearly four times that of any structure in the city, save for the cathedral. Memories flooded him as he neared it.

***** **From **_**Brisingr**_

_The three magicians stood with their arms outstretched, swaying and chanting in the ancient language. The words of their spell rang with unusual force and lingered in the air long after they should have faded to silence. The man who sat at their feet gripped his knees, his entire body shuddering as he trashed his head from side to side. _

_As Eragon moved toward the female spellcaster, a cluster of multicolored lights hurtled into the room through the broken shutters and converged upon the man seated on the floor._

…

"_Our name is Varaug," said the Shade. "Fear us."_

_Get a grip, _he scolded himself. _It's in the past._ He entered the tower, pushing aside the wooden doors as if they were feathers. A dozen soldiers were waiting on the inside.

"Shadeslayer," they greeted, bowing. "The others are convened up three flights of stairs in the first door on the right."

He thanked them and continued on. As he approached his destination, he noticed remnants of the fight with the Shade that still had not been repaired. Shattered windows, holes in walls, and shaky stairs lined his path to the feast. _Of all the places in the city, they pick the one where the fiercest battle took place, _Eragon grumbled to himself. Finding himself at the door, he cleared his throat and made an effort to tame his windswept hair, combing it with his fingers, before entering the room.

The spacious room had been duly decorated for the cause. Any damage from the fight against Varaug had been tidied up or repaired. Eragon knew that it had most likely been at Feinster's expense. Fine chandeliers lined the ceiling, and candles were spread out over the table. Assembled were Nasuada, Arya, Jormundur, Orrin, and various other generals of the Varden, as well as some of the higher-ranking nobles of Feinster. The only seat left empty was the one to Nasuada's right, near the head of the table, and directly opposite from Arya.

Upon Eragon's entrance, the group rose to their feet and greeted him one-by-one. He grumbled inwardly at the formalities, but knew they were necessary.

"Well met, Shadeslayer. I have always wished to meet the infamous Rider of the Varden."

"Ah, Eragon Shadeslayer. At last we meet."

After acquainting himself with each of the nobles, Eragon took his seat. Taking his cue, the others soon followed. When everyone was comfortably seated and the buzz of conversation had ceased, Nasuada rose to her feet. "Welcome, all, to this celebration of victory – a victory of freedom from tyranny. Feinster is no longer crushed under the dark king's iron grip. And together, Arya, Eragon, and his dragon Saphira removed an evil blot on the land of Alagaesia. Mere minutes after the Shade's creation, Arya plunged her sword into the fiend's heart. To Arya Shadeslayer and Eragon Shadeslayer, and to Saphira Brightscales for their valor," she finished triumphantly, raising a glass.

All around them, glasses clinked as the guests repeated, "To Arya and Eragon Shadeslayer, and to Saphira."

Nasuada cleared her throat to return attention. "With that said, let the feast begin!" At her words, servants entered the room with steaming piles of food – more food than Eragon had seen in quite some time.

Leaning over to Nasuada, he whispered, "How did you manage to come up with the money for this?"

She smiled in response. "It seems that Feinster was more than happy to be freed from Galbatorix's clutches. In return for our service, many of the nobles have opened up their riches to us."

"That is good news, indeed."

"Aye."

Eragon turned his attention to the food in front of him. He knew that this was likely to be the finest meal he would partake in for quite some time, yet something was bothering him. Across the table, he noticed Arya was less than enthusiastic about the plate in front of her as well; in fact, she was looking at him.

Eragon raised an eyebrow in question. "Is it bothering you as well?" she queried.

He did not need to ask what she was talking about. Varaug. "Aye," he whispered.

***** **From **_**Brisingr**_

"_You shall die," growled Varaug. "You shall all die for imprisoning us in this cold, hard clay."_

…

_Eragon and Varaug battled at the speed of thought, fighting back and forth along the perimeter of the Shade's mind, which was a landscape so jumbled and incoherent, Eragon feared it would drive him mad if he gazed at it for long._

…

_Eragon's concentration eventually wavered, and Varaug seized upon the opportunity to force himself further into Eragon's mind, trapping him... transfixing him... suppressing his thoughts until Eragon could do no more than stare at the Shade with dumb rage. An excruciating tingling filled Eragon's limbs as the spirits raced through his body, coursing down every one of his nerves._

Eragon and Arya awoke simultaneously with a jerk as they remembered where they were. Nasuada was gazing between the two of them with worry; the others had been too busy in their conversations and food to notice.

"Eragon, Arya – what happened?"

They glanced at each other before Eragon answered. "It is nothing to be concerned about, Mi'lady. Do not trouble yourself overmuch."

Nasuada looked doubtful, but returned to her meal without further comments. Arya and Eragon continued to look at each other.

_Try not to lose yourself in her eyes, Eragon, _Saphira chuckled. He ignored her.

"Do remnants of the Shade always haunt the slayer afterward?" Arya whispered.

"I'm not sure. After Durza, I was lost within his memories; my mind was filled with darkness. Oromis shielded me, though. The worst was blocked out."

"And what of Varaug?" For once, Arya seemed uncertain. This was new territory for her.

"For that, I have no answer. We slayed him though, and neither of us were lost in his mind; I managed to retreat just before your sword pierced his heart. We will be fine."

"Aye, together we slayed him."

******* from _Brisingr_**

_In a flash, Eragon freed himself from Varaug. Without consideration for his own safety, he resumed his attack on the Shade's consciousness, his only thought to restrain the Shade for a few moments._

_Varaug rose onto one knee, then faltered as Eragon redoubled his efforts._

"_Get him!" Eragon shouted._

_Arya lunged forward, her dark hair flying … _

_And she stabbed the Shade through his heart._

They awoke again, but as they returned to consciousness, Eragon and Arya felt renewed with vigor.

"He's gone," they whispered. The last shard of Varaug's evil presence had been eliminated.

Suddenly, Eragon found himself ravenous. Noticing that everyone else was nearly finished, he tore into his food with a reckless abandon and cleared his plate within minutes, sitting back and releasing a satisfied belch. Nasuada and Arya stared at him in horror. "My apologies," he said, grinning. Arya simply shook her head with a small smile and returned to her plate.

After everyone finished, Nasuada again stood up and announced, "Now that we are done here, we can head to the part of the night everyone has looked forward to the most – the dance! To the celebration hall!" Eragon groaned, but nobody noticed; they were already on their feet in excitement.

Eragon trudged with heavy feet and a heavy heart to what he believed to be his impending doom. On his way there, he noticed a number of staggering drunks. _They certainly have not been holding back._

_Few have,_ came Saphira's hazy, unfocused thought. Confirming his suspicions, Eragon checked on her current state to find her emptying an alarming amount of mead.

_Everything in moderation, Saphira! _he warned.

_I AM A DRAGON!_

Conceding her point, Eragon left her to her business, knowing full well that she would apologize in the morning. He arrived at the hall to find a vast number of people already on the floor. Apparently, they had started the dance without him. In his mind, it was something to be thankful for.

"Eragon! Join us!" came a booming voice. Looking around, Eragon found its owner to be none other than King Orrin. In his arms was Nasuada, swaying to the sound of the music. Human minstrels, as well as a few of the elves, were playing a lively tune in the corner.

"Ah, yes. The dance. Well, you see, I do not have a partner, so unfortunately I –"

Orrin cut him off. "Foolishness! Look by the elves!"

Eragon followed his gaze and saw Arya to be standing by the rest of her kind. "Orrin," he whispered urgently. "I cannot ask her, of all people!"

"Nonsense. You will not leave until you do." Glaring at Orrin, but realizing he had no other way out, Eragon weaved his way through the crowd of dancers and slowed as he approached her. She looked over at him, and his heart stopped. She was beautiful: her raven-black hair, slim form, honey-colored skin, and above all, her emerald eyes. They transfixed him; he felt as if he could gaze into their depths until –

"Yes?" she asked quizzically.

_What a fool I am! I walk up to her and proceed to stare with my mouth open! I will never get out of this one alive. _"Arya Svit-Kona," he said, doing his best to recover himself, "I wish to ask if – if you would like to dance with me."

She raised her eyebrows at his request, then let out a small laugh at Eragon's expression. Eragon thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"You look as if you think I am about to throw you out the window!"

Eragon tried, and failed, to rearrange his expression into a more natural one. "Well, yes, I thought that perhaps you – "

She smiled. "Come with me," she said, holding out a hand.

Eragon took it with an expression of wonder on his face. Dancers cleared the way for them as they moved to the center of the room. As they began to dance, Eragon was at first awkward in his movements, but quickly gained confidence as they progressed. Arya was, as expected, extremely fluid and graceful in her movements. For this one time, she permitted contact between Eragon and herself as wrapped his arm around her back. Eragon found his gaze attracted to her eyes, and Arya, for reasons unknown, did not remove her eyes from his.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the floor slowly began to clear, leaving Eragon and Arya alone in the center and spectators to marvel at the sight. So lost were they in the rhythm of the music that they scarcely recognized that they were the only pair left.

"When did you ever become so skilled a dancer?" she asked with what seemed like genuine curiosity. "I can hardly believe you would have had time for that during your travels with Brom or during your training under Oromis."

"You are right in that matter," he replied. "In Carvahall, we would hold dances every year. I hated going to them, but Roran would always make me. That was where he met Katrina."

"And did you ever meet anyone you fancied there?"

"Never," Eragon said solemnly. The song drew to a close, and Eragon bowed and thanked her for the dance, to which she gave a nod of her head. "It seems as if everyone is leaving. May I accompany you to your tent?" he asked, hoping he was not going too far.

She considered his request with an impassive face for a moment. "Perhaps," she answered, and promptly turned and started walking away.

_Curses! A yes or a no would have been nice._ _Although if she didn't want me to, she would have said no. _With this in mind, he quickly caught up to her. On the way to her tent, they talked companionably of many things, few of which were of importance.

"Good night, Arya Svit-Kona," he said after they had reached her tent.

"Good night, Eragon."

Heading back to his tent, he checked on Saphira's state to find her snoozing outside.

_All in all, not a bad night,_ he thought as he drifted into the alternate world he called his dreams.

**A/N: Please review! You will make me really happy if you do! I will do my best to reply to everyone who does review. **


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